Reflections
by rockbloodyon
Summary: When the Doctor is most vulnerable, his reflections come to haunt him...
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** When the Doctor is most vulnerable, his reflections come to haunt him...  
**Set: **After Journey's End  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Reflections  
Part 1**

Chapter 1

The rude trill of a phone broke the empty silence in the TARDIS. The Doctor glanced at his mobile in surprise. Now he wasn't expecting that.

I had been exactly three weeks, two days, ten hours, twenty two minutes and fifty four seconds since he had left Chiswick. Every moment that passed since then had hurt. The familiar feeling of loss and loneliness had returned like it had never disappeared. And for once, it really had disappeared. The Doctor could not help longing for that sacred moment again. The moment when everything was right, when everybody was finally happy. That feeling of euphoria as his family had pulled the Earth back home. But now it was just a memory, a precious memory he would hold onto for the rest of his life. And now, his whole body ached for them, the longing he felt almost unbearable. But he was the Doctor and he would live on. He could cope. He was the Doctor, and he always did.

The Doctor eyed the phone warily. Who could possibly be calling him? He was the Lonely God. His family had vanished. There was no one left. And he was feeling far too sorry for himself and should just pick up the phone and be grateful for someone to talk to. Bracing himself for the worst he flipped open the phone and put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

A familiar voice replied.

"Doctor!"

It was Martha.

"Martha! Hello! Wait a second, wh- why are you calling me?"

"I just wanted to catch up you know, have a chat." Her voice softened, "Are you alright?"

The Doctor was silent for a moment before replying, "Yeah, I'm alright. Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine."

He smiled.

"So what can I do for you Miss Jones?"

"Do you fancy a coffee Mr Smith?"

"Weeeell, I quite like tea actually."

He heard Martha sigh. "Go on then, I suppose I can push the boat out for you."

"Well, that is more like pulling up the anchor. I think cake would definitely be pushing the boat out."

"See you Doctor!" Martha chuckled and hung up.

The loneliest man in the Universe was going to have tea with his former companion. How very domestic, he thought.

* * *

The Doctor grinned when he saw Martha. "Come here!" She grinned back as he pulled her into a tight hug.

"So then, that cup of tea?"

* * *

The Doctor followed Martha into the kitchen, only briefly stopping to check his reflection in the hallway mirror. The image that greeted him came as a shock. Reflected back at him in the mirror was the face of a man who had gone through hell and back. Twice.

His skin was pale, bordering grey and his usually sparkly brown eyes were dark, full of death and sorrow. Even his wild hair was slightly limp. No wonder Martha had been concerned.

Sighing heavily, the Doctor drew himself away from the mirror before he could fall back into his fragile, unresponsive state of mind.

He accepted his tea gratefully knowing it would do him some good.

"So, what have you been getting up to these past three weeks." Martha's tone was light and friendly, but it couldn't disguise the pity in her voice. She felt a deep sorrow for him. He had lost everything. Rose, Donna, his family. She could see it in his eyes. He had given up. So much loss and pain all at once. It had been so sudden. "Martha." He was staring right at her now, his cheery façade gone.

"I visited her. Donna." He waited for Martha's reaction. He was making a confession and he needed to know she wouldn't judge him. She nodded.

"As John Smith." she said quietly. He looked away from her, ashamed.

"Yes. As John Smith. A double glazing salesman." He let out a cold, hollow laugh. Turning his gaze back to Martha he said, "I had to Martha. I couldn't just leave her. She— She didn't want—"

"But you had to." Martha finished for him. The words sounded raw, harsh spoken from someone else's mouth. Saying it himself he could have fooled himself everything was alright. But hearing his unspoken thoughts out loud?

"Yes."

"Doctor, you saved her life!"

"Did I?" His words sent a ghostly chill through Martha. She had seen him angry, she had seen him suffer losses and sacrifice the ones he loved. But never had his eyes looked so dark and full of self loathing.

Martha didn't speak. There were no words in the Universe that could comfort the Doctor at this low time.

It seemed an age before the Doctor spoke again. "Anyway! Enough about me. Have you joined Torchwood yet?"

Martha jumped. How could a man so full of despair suddenly sound so cheerful? "Er, yeah. Wait, how did you know?"

The Doctor grinned, "Jack told me."

"He told you before he told me? The cheeky...Anyway I've replaced Owen now so I'm doing autopsies on aliens, organising Weevil containment operations, all fascinating stuff. UNIT want me back, but I said no. I like Torchwood better, they understand the aliens more. They recognize that they have feelings and need help. UNIT sort of...see them as a constant threat."

"Good for you Martha Jones, good for you."

She smiled at the Doctor. If he was giving her praise, she must be doing the right thing.

"You couldn't do me a favour could you? My dishwasher is broken..."

The Doctor patted his pockets, "Yeah...er. Have you seen my sonic screwdriver?"

Martha shook her head.

"I must have left it in my coat... Hold on!" The Doctor hurtled out of the front door to the TARDIS.

He opened the TARDIS door, stepped inside and found himself, facing himself.

* * *

Chapter 2 will be up once I've written it, meanwhile, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is quite short because I wanted to end it on a cliffhanger. Enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 2 – Something wicked this way comes

The Doctor swivelled round in alarm. It had gone. The door had gone. Vanished. In its place stood an exact copy of himself. Same skinny frame, same wild hair, same shocked expression. Same everything. He kept turning on the spot. The panic was beginning to well up inside him now, hitting dangerous levels. Adrenaline pumped through his system, burning up his insides. It played hazard with his body, turning him this way and that in a malformed dance that would have appeared almost comical to any ignorant spectator. There were more of them, all in a circle. Following his every move in some sick, twisted game. When he turned, they turned. When he looked at them, they stared back, unblinking. Their eyes showing such dreadful pain. The Doctor was unable to cope any longer and crumpled.

"Stop it. Please stop it!" His cry came out as a terrified whisper. Now frozen to the spot he saw that his clones had moved their lips in synch with his, but no sound had come out. All was silent except the pounding of his hearts in his ears and the sound of his shallow breaths. And then it dawned on him.

"What?"

* * *

Martha glanced at her watch. The Doctor had been gone for five minutes. She frowned. He would never misplace his sonic screwdriver. So what was taking him so long? Shrugging, she turned back to her magazine. She had learnt a long time ago that she need not worry about the Doctor. He could look after himself.

"Oh, who am I kidding..." Rolling her eyes she got up and headed for the TARDIS.

Well, at least it was still there. He hadn't abandoned her. She tried the door. It was locked. Sighing, she knocked on the door.

"Doctor, have you found your screwdriver?" No reply. "Doctor!" He still didn't answer. As unpredictable as he was, he wouldn't just ignore her.

And then she saw something that made her stomach clench in fear. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a woman turn the corner of the road. A very familiar woman. Too familiar. "iOh my god.../i" Abandoning any previous thought of the Doctor she sprinted after the woman, her gut telling her to run in the opposite direction. But she ignored it. If it was one thing the Doctor had taught her, it was this. iDon't run away from a problem. Run towards it and fix it before it affects anybody else. /i Your gut isn't always right, especially after too many mince pies.

Martha turned the corner and cried out in shock. The woman she was following had stopped part way down the road and was staring at her intensely. Martha couldn't move, she just gazed at the woman in horror. She had seen her fair share of aliens and monsters and impossibilities in her time, but this... This was something different. What she saw scared her more than anything in her life. She was looking at a mirror image of herself. The woman was Martha. An exact copy.

The copy turned and disappeared into the distance leaving Martha standing frozen to the spot.

* * *

Please review!


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